Snippets Of A Story
by Invader FanGirl
Summary: This isn't a full story.. more of a collection of mere moments spent in a certain office...
1. -NOTES-

**[Hello-ello-ello, everyone on Fanfiction Net! Invader Fangirl here!]**

 **[Now, before we proceed with the story, allow me to point out some things.]**

 **[All of these stories are inspired by prompts from tumblr. Most of them are very short. I just wrote all of these to try and get out of writer's block. So, some of these may be out of character. I just.. really needed to post something on here. I felt a bit guilty for leaving this place so suddenly.]**

 **[To correspond with the prompts, some of these had to put into AUs to work. Here is a list of the AUs. (At least with my Stanley and Narrator.)]**

 **-The Usual AU: The closest I can get to canon.. sort of. Stanley's trapped in a game forever, blah blah blah, The Narrator narrates stuff. The Narrator is robotic like he appears in the cover, and he created the game itself.** **He and Stanley are stuck forever in the office, just as the Female Narrator had stated in the Museum Ending.**

 **-Creation AU: The Narrator created the game and Stanley.  
**

 **-This Is My Story AU: Yes, I just had to mention this one. Doesn't exactly go into the storyline, only the backstories are from this. IS NOT RELATED TO THE STORY OTHERWISE.**

 **-Crack AU: Yep.**

 **-Everything Is Fine AU: In which there is no game, and no narrator. Stanley simply works for a company in a big building, where he is Employee 427. The Narrator, as a character, will come in as someone different. You'll see.**

 **{NOTE: IF STANLEY AND THE NARRATOR ARE TO ESCAPE FROM THE GAME, STANLEY IS FULLY CAPABLE OF TALKING. He was forced to be mute in the game, but in the real world, he's only selectively mute.}**

 **{THIS LIST CAN BE UPDATED.}**

 **[These are all labeled as AUs because well, first off, they're not canon, and second, I can't decide what is my headcanon for these two. I honestly can't.]**

 **[Also, I'm terribly sorry about uploading this instead of the next chapter for "This Is My Story." Honestly, I feel like a narrator in the Confusion Ending.. because I lost the story..]**

 **[Well.. anyway, lets proceed, shall we?]**


	2. Pronunciation

**[The Usual AU.]**

* * *

A loud laugh echoed through the office walls, making Stanley jump. He closed the webpage on his computer and gazed upwards. The laugh continued for a few minutes, before it stopped, as if it finally acknowledged Stanley's attention towards it.

 _"Oh, hahaha..."_ the familiar voice said. _"Sorry about that, Stanley. I just found this_ hilairious _post on my tumblr..."_ he trailed off. _"Wait.. tumblr? Toom-blerr? Tuh.. whatever."_ He said to himself.

Stanley had to smile at that. It was funny how someone who's job it is to read a story repeatedly is having trouble with pronunciation. The mention of the post intrigued Stanley. He tilted his head; what could be that funny?

The Narrator heard Stanley's thoughts (and tried to ignore the first part). _"Well, I just found the funniest gif on my dash.. simply brilliant."_

The smile immediately left Stanley's face. Wait.. gif? Isn't it pronounced jif? Stanley turned to his computer and opened a new document. He looked back up at the ceiling, gestured towards his screen, and began to type.

'It's pronounced "jif," Narrator.'

The Narrator read this and stared at the message in disbelief. _"Wha-? How the hell would you know how its pronounced? You can't even talk, Stanley."_ Stanley couldn't see him, but The Narrator was offended, and had his arms crossed. _"Why, I bet you only knew that through the internet. No, not of common knowledge, but of something from a forum."_ He huffed. _"I created a game, Stanley. A. Whole. Damn. Game. I think I know very well about what I'm talking about."_

Stanley rolled his eyes. 'Wanna bet on that?' He typed.

Stanley still couldn't see him, but The Narrator had raised an eyebrow. _"A wager, you say? Fine, just because I_ know _I'm right."_ He chuckled to himself pridefully. _"Alright let's see..."_ He thought out loud. _"If I'm right, we get to play through the story with complete obedience for a whole eight days. Just you, me, and the glorious Freedom Ending for 192 hours straight!"_

Stanley shuddered a bit at that, but still kept his smug face. 'Okay then. If I'm right, we'll switch places, and you'll get to see just how much fun being "Stanley" is.' His smirk grew as he continued to type. 'I'll have complete obedience from _you,_ and I'll be able to make my own story. Deal?'

Seeing what Stanley wanted from him unnerved The Narrator for a moment, but he nodded. (But Stanley couldn't tell.) _"Fine. Deal."_

Finally getting the agreement out of the way, Stanley minimized the document and opened his search engine, where he typed: "Pronunciation of gif." He clicked on the first search result, and went back to the document.

'Here, look. The creator of the gif format has confirmed the correct pronunciation.'

The Narrator could hardly keep his patience at this. _"Well? Go on! Read it!"_

Stanley gave the ceiling a dull look. 'I can't talk, remember?'

The Narrator mentally facepalmed himself for being so stupid. _"Oh, uh, right."_ He cleared his throat. _"Hm... let's see here..."_ he skimmed through the article. _"Ah, yes, here it is! You ready for this, Stanley?"_

Stanley closed his eyes and grinned. 'Go on.'

 _"Alright, then. 'And, in a flash, it all became clear. Its..'"_

The Narrator stopped. Wait no.. hold on. He read and reread the single sentence. Stanley looked up expectantly at The Narrator, waiting for him to finish it. After reading the sentence for about the eighth time, The Narrator gave in.

 _"Its..."_ he painstakingly drawled out. _"...pronounced jif. Not gif."_

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine your OTP debating whether its pronounced gif or jif.]**

 **[Yeah... I don't know.]**

 **[Remember, this was only to get out of writer's block.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	3. Clumsiness

**[SHIP WARNING, kind of a sequel thing to "Contact."]  
**

* * *

Here they were again.

Ever since Stanley had met The Narrator in person that one time, The Narrator started cleaning up when Stanley's around more often. After that, The Narrator would visit Stanley's office at times when the game restarted. Eventually they got to the point where they didn't even bother with the story and just spent time together.

And this time they were here again. In the employee lounge. On the couch.

Stanley shifted in The Narrator's arms, comfortable and content. The Narrator sighed, holding Stanley closer. It was nice to just lie here, and to not doing anything else. No words to be said, just.. nothing. Stanley turned to face The Narrator, and looked up at him. It was obvious he was still awake, as he looked back and smiled.

A new experimental thought came into The Narrator's head. He smirked. _'Maybe I could...'_ He leaned his head down, and kissed Stanley on the forehead, making him blush.

'Dammit, Narrator!' Stanley thought.

 _'What? You didn't like it?'_ The Narrator spoke in Stanley's head.

'No... I-I mean, I did. B-But...'

The Narrator's smirk grew wider. Time to go further, then. He released his grip on Stanley, and moved so that he was sitting in front of Stanley. Stanley gave him a strange look, confused to why he stopped. _'Well, that question will be answered soon...'._ The Narrator thought to himself, as he leaned down and kissed Stanley.

Stanley froze in shock. The Narrator then proceeded to press his lips further into Stanley's and then giving him a small lick. Stanley came to his senses and allowed his mouth to open, closing his eyes as he did so. The Narrator's tongue darted into Stanley's mouth, deepening the kiss. Stanley soon joined in with the action. They did this for a while longer before they broke the kiss, trying to regain their breaths.

The Narrator studied Stanley's face. It was obviously flustered, and Stanley's eyes were wide, still surprised that The Narrator would do something like this. The Narrator chuckled. "Oh, you're just too much, Stanley." He teased. He then came down for another kiss, grabbing Stanley's shoulders and this time with more force. Stanley didn't mind, though, as he allowed himself to submit to the man above him.

Unfortunately, they weren't in the best position when The Narrator did this, so Stanley had accidentally slipped off from the couch and fell to the floor, The Narrator falling right after him.

"OW!" The Narrator said when they had hit the floor. He looked down, Stanley still under him, and immediately sat up. "Oh, uh, sorry about that. A-Are you alright, Stanley?" He asked sheepishly. Stanley sat up a little to look at The Narrator and nodded, rubbing his head where it had hit the carpet. "Are you sure?" The Narrator asked again. Stanley nodded. The Narrator smiled and pinned Stanley down again. "Good." He said as he leaned down to resume the kiss. Stanley closed his eyes.

And Stanley was happy.

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine your OTP making out on the couch and falling off. Then proceeding to make out of the floor.]**

 **[Ehh, I'm not much for writing about kissing, but I gave it a shot.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	4. Concentration

**[I THINK THIS IS WHAT IS CALLED A CRACKFIC, The Usual AU.]**

* * *

 _It was late at night. A man sat alone in his office reading a book, completely lost in the story. It was entrancing, the storyline flowed so smoothly, and the plot was so captivating that he couldn't look away. He was so focused on his beloved book that he lost track of the time. But oh, he didn't care._

 _Eventually, it was almost like he was in the story, as he lost all attention to the real world. No, no he didn't care. This was much too interesting. In fact he was so caught up in the story that he didn't notice a very small weight was placed on his head. A can. And then another was placed, just beside it. Then, a third one was added to the line. Next, a can was placed on top of the middle of the first two cans, and then another next to it. Finally, as the final can was about to be placed at the top-_

The Narrator stopped reading mid-sentence. What the heck? What kind of story is this? As The Narrator thought about this, he noticed the stack of cans on top of his- "Wait - what the-?" The Narrator squeaked, flinching when he registered the cylinders above him. The sudden jolt shook the cans, toppling them onto The Narrator, a few hitting him on the forehead. "Ow! OW!"

He rubbed his head, and looked behind him, a surprised Stanley holding a similar can in his hand. Stanley's eyes darted to the can, then back to The Narrator, and he quickly hid the object behind his back. The Narrator wasn't amused.

"Stanley..." He hissed. "Explain this."

Stanley's eyes gazed around the room, trying to decide how to answer. Seeing he was taking too long, he panicked and ran out of the recording room, dropping the can behind him. The Narrator watched Stanley run back to the office, contemplating whether or not he should go after him. He shook his head. _'No... I'll just have a small talk with him tomorrow...'_ He decided. A small grin appeared on his face at the thought.

The Narrator looked back to the strange book, and threw it behind him, the book disappearing from existence as soon as it hit the floor. He rubbed his temples. That is the _last_ time he reads someone else's work...

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine Person A trying to balance a stack of cans of Person B's head.]**

 **[Hah, I don't know. Meta.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	5. Broken

**[Creation AU.]**

* * *

Thirty seconds on the clock. Stanley rushed through the circular room, trying to disable the impending doom that was awaiting him in... 25 seconds. The Narrator said his mocking dialog once the countdown reached 30, and Stanley tried his best to tune it out. He had to focus; there had to be _some_ way to turn the bomb off! He had to prove The Narrator wrong, that there is a happier ending to this, he was sure of it. Stanley glanced up at the timer: fifteen seconds.

He shut his eyes and braced himself. Stanley hated this ending. He hated it so much. He really wished it wouldn't end like this.

 _"And believe me, I will be laughing at every second of your inevitable life, from the moment we fade in, until the moment I say: happily ever a-"_

* * *

The Narrator smiled at the loading screen in front of him, the Countdown Ending now completed. It was always fun to do this ending, seeing Stanley try to screw up the story, only to be met with a tragic fate. It was hilarious, really.

The loading screen finished, now displaying the outside of Stanley's office. The Narrator flipped back to the start of the script, remebering to keep a hand where the Coward Ending dialogue would be, just in case Stanley were to close the door. He looked back up at the monitor, his face in front of the microphone, ready to start the story. He waited for Stanley to step out of his office.

...

The Narrator waited..

...

..And waited...

...

 _'...Stanley?'_

Just as The Narrator was starting to get worried, he saw a small hint of movement coming out of the office. He immediately started on his line. _"All of his co-workers were gone-"_ Thump. _"-wha-WHATOHMYGOD-!"_ The Narrator screamed as he saw Stanley suddenly fall to the floor out of the room unmoving, badly bruised with blood coming out of his mouth, his eyes glassy.

 _"Stanley- Oh my- Shoot-!"_ The Narrator stammered. Instinctively, he hit the reset button.

* * *

The loading screen appeared again. As it was loading, The Narrator tried to regain his breath. Holy shit, he was not prepared for that. He took a few deep breaths, and looked slowly to the screen. _"Stanley..?"_ He called out.

Thump.

The Narrator let out another shriek of surprise, and hit the reset button again.

 _'This shouldn't be happening. The game is restarting... Stanley should be fine this time... right?'_

 _'No..? I'll try again.'_

 _'No... this time should do it.'_

 _'No..'_

At every failed attempt to help Stanley, The Narrator kept restarting.

 _'He can't be gone. He can't be...'_

* * *

The Narrator finally collapsed at his keyboard, sobbing loudly. Nothing was working. He had lost Stanley. His only company in this game, and he _killed_ him. He killed him, and laughed at Stanley for trying to stop him. Oh, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

The Narrator clutched his head as tears streamed down his face. He wiped them away with his jacket sleeve and tried to focus on the problem at hand. What will he do now? What is there to do? He looked over to the script. That's obviously out of the question, now that his main character is... absent. The Narrator looked at the screen, continuing to displaying Stanley's office. Stanley was still lying on the floor. The Narrator thought about giving Stanley a funeral.. He shook his head of the thought. No... he should just leave everything as it is.. for Stanley. Besides.. there would be no one to mourn for him except for The Narrator. And where would he be buried? This was an office.

Okay, so he now that he's decided on that, now what?

The Narrator sat staring at the computer, pondering this question. He swiveled his chair around to another desk, cluttered with papers and pencils - first drafts and short drabbles.

Oh well. I guess he should just try to start over...

 _This is the story of a man named..._

No, that sounds too much like his first story. The Narrator scribbled the sentence out.

 _Once upon a time..._

 _'No, this isn't a fairytale... I think.'_ He crossed this one out too.

It was hard to write a new story when you've been telling the same one for months. Over and over. The Narrator stared at his pencil, stuck on what to write. Lost in thought, he started writing absentmindedly.

 _This is the a very sad story of the death of a man named Stanley._

 _Stanley was a good man. He had a simple job that he enjoyed, and managed to buy small apartment room that he calls home. And even though he lived alone, Stanley was content with his life, and happily walked to his office on every day of every month of every year. He never got into any trouble, and followed orders perfectly._

 _And yet... as innocent and carefree as he was, Stanley had met a horrible demise._

 _One day, all of his co-workers went missing. Scared of being alone, Stanley went to search for them. By sheer luck, he discovered how he was content with his boring job and life: a mind control machine, hidden underground from the eyes of the employees. Filled with rage for the company he turned on the machine as revenge, unintentionally setting off a bomb that blew him to pieces._

The Narrator snapped out of his trance and looked at what he wrote. He read and reread it. This.. was the story he wrote for the Countdown Ending, yes, but... it wasn't correct. He crossed all of it out and rewrote it.

 _This is the story of a man named Stanley._

 _Along with the game, he is my entire life's work. I designed him to be a completely blank slate, someone I could bend to my will for the game to work. Unfortunately, Stanley was human, so he grew a personality._

 _It was surprising to see this for the first time, when he took the door on his right. I wasn't prepared for it, so I had to restart the game. I had paused it, and wondered for a long time on what to do. There was nothing I could do about him being human, so I decided to go along with it. I designed the office to be bigger, and wrote new endings to the story. Originally, there was only one ending, but Stanley had feelings now, I couldn't just bore him forever._

 _It was mistake on my end, and I deeply regret it._

 _Stanley soon started going off of the original story, much to my dismay. It was purely to spite me, I'm sure. I could read his thoughts, after all. I knew his opinions on the story. At first, he was curious to see where the mysterious voice in his head was leading him, but after a few cycles through the endings, he started to dispise my game, and soon, myself. He hated me for keeping him here, and blew himself up in the Countdown Ending constantly, trying to prove me wrong about my own story. Stanley had developed into a rebellious character, but he still had good intentions. He only wishes for freedom, to see the outside world, not the cheap knock-off I made up in the Freedom Ending. He even started killing himself repeatedly trying to escape the game._

 _Well.. I suppose he got his wish._

The Narrator stared at the final sentence. His eyes dropped to the floor in shame. He couldn't write anything past that. There's nothing to add. He was a character, and that's his story. The end.

The Narrator put the paper to the side. _'No, don't think about him, not anymore.'_ He picked up a new sheet. _'Let's begin again...'_

* * *

The Narrator had tried again and again, but he couldn't find it in himself to write another story with a new character. He felt that it was a bit disrespectful to... his first one. He soon decided to ditch writing altogether, and just stick to what his name intended for him to be: a narrator. He found jobs on the internet for voice acting. Just small things like commercials and ads, but it was enough to pass the time.

Time went on, and it had now been a year since Stanley's death. The Narrator glanced over to the program that monitored the office. Stanley is still in there... He wondered if he should do some sort of memorial for the occasion. The Narrator smiled at the thought. It would have to be something grand. Something breathtaking. Something that perfectly portrayed the man that is Stanley. His smile faltered. Then again... there's no one in the game to actually marvel at it.. but it's the thought that counts, right?

Oh.. but he would have to take care of the body, wouldn't he? The Narrator sighed. _'Do it for Stanley, do it for Stanley...'_ he repeated in his head as he clicked on the file.

The loading screen flashed onto the monitor. The Narrator smiled in nostalgia. Oh, the memories he had here! The Games Ending, the Confusion Ending, the Freedom Ending...

..the Countdown Ending...

The Narrator tried his best to block that thought out as the live camera footage came online. He was first presented with video in the Mind Control Facility. He clicked over the cameras, from the end to the start. The monitor room, the staircase downwards, the boss' office, that broom closet, the meeting room, the room with two doors...

There it is. One last camera to check on. Just as he was about to click on it, he hesitated. What if Stanley's corpse had rotted? He would want to spoil his last image of Stanley with that! But the memorial..

 _'No..'_ Taking a breath, he made up his mind. _'Do it.. do it...'_ Click.

...

The Narrator's eyes widened. _'Wait- where..?'_ He carefully looked through the image. _"WHERE IS HE?!"_ The Narrator cried. He checked the cameras again. No, no, nonono, this was bad. This was horrible. Where could he have gone? Had someone somehow taken him?! His heart dropped at the thought. _"Stanley..."_

He couldn't help it. He couldn't stop himself from sobbing then and there.

Stanley was now gone. He didn't know how, but now the proof of his existance is now gone, along with Stanley himself.

All he's now left with is- ...wait, what was that?

A faint sound went through The Narrator's speakers, as though someone had stood up. The Narrator's mouth was agape. Could it really be..?

From the doorway of the office, a young man's head peeked out. He had dark brown hair, brown skin, yellow eyes, and freckles. The man looked up at the ceiling and tilted his head. It was him! The Narrator was overcome with joy.

 _"STANLEY!"_ He exclaimed, making Stanley flinch back. _"I.. I can't believe it! You're here! You're actually alive! Oh, you have no idea what it was like without you, Stanley!"_

Okay, now Stanley was beyond confused. All he had seen was his loading screen; it hadn't really been that long! He was though, surprised at The Narrator saying that it was hard not having him around, especially after the Countdown Ending.

The Narrator continued. _"Oh, Stanley, I'm so sorry for whatever I've done to you! I know you hate the game, and I know you hate me, but just.. please don't get yourself killed again, alright?"_ The Narrator's voice was breaking. _"I... I can't afford to lose you, Stanley. Please don't leave like that ever again."_ He pleaded.

Stanley blinked. Did something happen while he restarted? Seeing The Narrator so desperate like this, Stanley slowly nodded.

The Narrator sighed in relief. _"Oh, thank goodness! And, uh, by the way.."_ The Narrator opened the door ahead of Stanley. _"You can go explore the office, if you want. No story, no endings, nothing will happen. All the doors are open, and you are free to roam around as long as you would like."_ He paused. _"Consider it a small gift from me."_

Stanley immediately grinned. He stepped out of his office.

This was a happy ending.

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine Person A dying and coming back to life after a year, and Person B freaking out seeing Person A alive again.]**

 **[Yes, I wrote something serious for once.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	6. Heroism

**[Okay we're back to silly stuff. The Usual AU.]**

* * *

This is the epic tale.. of a very brave man named... _**STANLEY**_.

Okay, now what exactly can I put here to make this interesting... *Shuffling of papers* Ah, yes! A backstory! *Ahem*

Stanley worked for a company in big building, where he was employee number 427. Oh, but it was not an ordinary buisiness that he worked in. Little did he know how the terrible secrets that lay behind programmed doors!

Oh, no, but for now, here he is. Pushing buttons. That's his job.

It was simple; he would sit at his desk in room 427, and push buttons on a keyboard. Orders came to him through a monitor on his desk, telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.

Wait, _really?_ A button pusher..? So, how am I supposed to make something out of this?

Eh, I'll just wing it.

This was what Employee 427 did on every day of every month of every year. And although others considered it _painfully_ soul rending, Stanley relished every moment that the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for his job.

And Stanley was happy.

And then one day, something very peculiar had happened. Something that would forever change Stanley. Something he would never quite forget. He had been at his desk for nearly an hour when he realised not one single order had appeared on the monitor for him to follow. No one had shown up at his desk to give him instructions, call a meeting, or even say "hi." Never in all his years at the company had this happened; this complete isolation. Shocked, frozen solid, Stanley found himself unable to move for the longest time. But as he came to his wits and regained his senses, he got up from his desk, and stepped out of the office.

All of his co-workers were gone, what could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room, perhaps he had simply missed a memo.

...Stanley went around touching every little thing in the office, but it didn't make a single difference, nor did it advance the story in any way.

Stanley went around clicking literally every single door in the office, because he doesn't pick up well on cues from his environment.

Stanley, that's not... wha- how is the rest of the office more important than your co-workers? The ones that had mysteriously vanished out of existence? Innocent people who you've worked with for years, and... oh, nevermind. Moving on.

When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.

No, the _left_ , Stanley.

*Sigh* Alright, fine. Be that way.

This was not the correct way to the meeting room, and Stanley knew it perfectly well. Perhaps he wanted to stop by the employee lounge first, just to admire it.

No, you can't go back, Stanley. You've made your choice. This is what choosing incorrectly can do, Stanley.

You're just going to ignore me and keep walking? Pay no mind to The Narrator, is that really what you're doing?

Oh, fine. Its not like I'm planning on stopping.

Wow, yes, this room. What a beautiful room. What a gorgeous, gorgeous room.

Thank goodness Stanley had taken this detour on his way to the meeting room. Life without having experienced this room was now too horrible even to consider.

...

Yeeesss... really, really worth it being here in this room. A room so utterly captivating that even though all of your co-workers have mysteriously vanished, here you sit looking at these chairs and some paintings. Really worth it.

...

At this point, Stanley's obsession with this room bordered on creepy, and reflected poorly on his overall personality. It's possible that this is why everyone left.

...

...

Stanley sat around waiting for more dialogue, but when a long time had passed and there was no more, he decided that the game was trying to send him a message.

...

Stanley left the employee lounge.

...*Ahem* I said, Stanley left the employee lounge.

Hello? Stanley? Aren't you going to go search for your co-workers? Aren't you horribly worried on what had happened to them? Anything? Are you feeling any sort of remorse for them?

 _No?_

You heartless bastard.

Well then, I suppose you're just going to sit here, then? You're not going to the meeting room?

You aren't...

That's fine. I can work with this. I can still make a story out of this. *Writing sound* Okay, here we go.

Completely entranced by the room, Stanley found himself unable to leave. It was almost as if he had been trapped... in a lounge.

How would he save his co-workers? How could the story go on like this? Stanley wasn't able to, as he couldn't stand the thought of leaving this room.

...What's the look for?

 _You're_ the one who refused to continue the story. I'm just trying to make it interesting. Which, by the way, is especially hard to do when you're _standing here in this pointless room and-_

No, wait- um, what are you doing? Where did you get that? Wait, where did you get _those?_

Stanley, this isn't funny. This is very immature of you.

What are you... you're... you made a...

*Sigh* Well, there you have it.

I'm sorry dear readers. If you're looking for the guy destined to save the world, he's in the pillow fort in the employee lounge.

* * *

 **[Prompt: "If you're looking for the guy destined to save the world, he's in the pillow fort with the little kids."]**

 **[Yes, that is The Narrator speaking to you; Stanley.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	7. Stuck

**[Everything Is Fine AU.]**

* * *

Stanley woke up in his boring, old apartment room. After lazily rolling around on the couch trying to decide when to get up, he accidentally fell off. He scrambled to get up, and looked himself in the mirror. Oh my, he was a mess. He got dressed in his usual office uniform, and made himself some breakfast: coffee and two slices of toast. After that, he exited the apartment, and walked to the big building that was his office, two miles away.

Finally making it to the building, he walked towards the revolving door entrance, a fellow co-worker following behind him. The man had black hair, white skin, hazel eyes, and spoke with a British accent. He wore a brown jacket, khakis, and black shoes. Stanley couldn't quite remember his name, but he knew that in this company, he was Employee 426, a number below him.

"Morning, Stanley." The man greeted. Stanley nodded back as an answer. He was selectively mute, after all. They both entered the spinning doors together.

 _Creeak._

The metal doors stopped spinning, the two men still inside. Stanley looked down at the base of the door in front of him, and tried to push it forward. No luck. Stanley leaned his head against the glass sullenly. 'These cheap people can't even bother to fix the door...' he thought to himself.

And then he remembered the person standing behind him. Stanley turned around. Employee 426 stared at him. "Is... is it really stuck?" He asked quietly. Stanley nodded sadly.

The man sighed. "Well, I suppose we should just get comfy here until someone finds us." He said calmly, sitting down on the spot. Stanley blinked at him, and reluctantly sat down as well. The man took out a notebook, and began to write in it. Stanley, having nothing better to do, looked at the man curiously. Employee 426 noticed this, and glanced up to see Stanley staring straight at him.

"Oh, um," he stuttered, unprepared for the sudden audience. "I'm just writing a small story. Nothing huge or anything, just something to pass the time." He said, clutching the notebook closer. Stanley tilted his head. A story? How interesting! He motioned for him to go on.

The man blinked, then smiled. "You want to know about it? Well..." he opened the notebook, showing Stanley the contents inside. "I'm writing a story about a simple man who works at a boring job that demands little of him. The plot of the story begins when all of his co-workers suddenly disappear..."

Employee 426 continued to explain the story, Stanley listening eagerly. He went on saying that the main character would find out that the company had been mind-controlling him to enjoy his job, and how he would shut off the machine responsible for it, and free himself from the office. He managed to keep Stanley's interest when he added that there were multiple endings to the story; some where the character would break the fourth wall and go against the narrator of the story's directions, and sometimes break the story entirely, only to have it start from the beginning.

He took a breath, closing the notebook. "I'm not sure how it would work or how I would do it, but I do enjoy the idea. Unfortunately, this is only the outline. I haven't actually written any actual dialogue or anything." He shook his head. "I don't even have a name for my character yet."

Stanley felt bad that this man couldn't think of a name for this amazing character. He tapped the employee's shoulder to get his attention, and pointed to himself. Employee 426 raised an eyebrow.

"Your name? You want me to use _your_ name?" He asked. Stanley smiled and nodded. The man looked back at the notebook, as if he was pondering the idea. "The Stanley Parable..." he said to himself quietly.

Just then, a whirring sound went through the small space, making the two men jump. The doors started moving. The two men quickly stood up and finally walked into the building.

"Well," the man started, "I guess they finally fixed it!" He grinned at Stanley. Stanley smiled back. They went off together to their offices, which were right next to each other. After saying goodbye and receiving a friendly wave back from Stanley, Employee 426 watched Stanley go into room 427, closing the door behind him. He looked down at his notebook, and began to write.

 _'This is the story of a man named Stanley.'_

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine your OTP stuck in a revolving door together.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	8. Symbols

**[SHIP WARNING, This Is My Story AU.]**

* * *

Stanley and The Narrator were lying on the couch in Stanley's apartment. It was 11:33 P.M. Stanley was asleep.

The Narrator was wide awake, however. He kept thinking over the events that had led up to this moment. Their confessions to each other, their escape from the office... it may not sound like a lot, but those had really been a plot twist in his life story. He looked down at Stanley and smiled. He felt lucky to find someone like him.

The Narrator pulled Stanley closer to him. He closed his eyes in content and held his hand. The Narrator sighed. He really did love this man deeply. Tiredness finally getting to him now, he absentmindedly traced a shape over the back of Stanley's hand; a heart.

"N-Narrator..." Stanley mumbled in his sleep.

The Narrator's eyes shot open and he blushed. Did he accidentally wake him up? He leaned over Stanley to get a better look at him. _'No, he's still asleep...'_ he thought. Curious, he traced another heart on Stanley's hand.

"Narrator..." Stanley whispered.

The Narrator smiled a bit at that. That was just too adorable. He experimentally traced a square on Stanley's hand. No response. He tried tracing a spiral. Still nothing. The Narrator tilted his head and slowly drew another heart. And then another. And another.

"Narrator.. Narrator.. Narrator..." Stanley repeated automatically. The Narrator grinned and hugged Stanley tighter. Why did he have to be so damn cute? He closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to sleep.

As he did this, he smirked. Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Stanley about this in the morning...

* * *

 **[Prompt:** **Imagine person A of your OTP is asleep. Person B isn't asleep yet and holds A's hand. B starts to trace shapes on the back of A's hand. They draw a heart on A's hand, and when they do, A whispers B's name. B traces a square on A's hand slowly, then a spiral, but they get nothing. They once again trace a heart into A's hand and again, A whispers B's name. B smirks, thinking of ways they can tease A in the morning.]**

 **[Sorry, I just found the idea absolutely adorable.]**

 **[And no, this isn't a spoiler. _I'll make sure of that. :D_ ]**

 **[Please review!]**


	9. Guess

**[SHIP WARNING, The Usual AU.]**

* * *

The Narrator capped his pen, sitting back to admire his work; a love confession. He carefully proofread the note over and over. It had to be perfect. He had even used his finest gold ink calligraphy pen for this... he wanted to really let this man know how he felt. The Narrator looked it over; the handwriting was clean, there were no grammar errors or spelling mistakes.

Deciding it was good enough, he folded the paper and inserted it into an envelope, closing it with a heart sticker. It was a bit cheesy, he had to admit, but The Narrator thought it fit in perfectly for what he was about to do. Staring at the envelope for a few more minutes, he took a breath to steel his nerves. _'Okay.. you can do this, you can do this...'_ he repeated in his head like a mantra.

The Narrator lowered himself with the wire behind him into Stanley's office, through a hole in the ceiling. He looked to his left; room 427 was right there, the door closed, Stanley waiting behind it. Taking another breath, he knocked on the door.

"Stanley?" He called out. "Do you have a minute?"

Immediately, the door opened, and Stanley stood there, already looking up at The Narrator. He blinked expectantly. The Narrator swallowed. Well, here goes nothing. He handed the letter to Stanley.

Stanley looked at the envelope. Seeing the heart sticker, he raised an eyebrow up at The Narrator and accepted it. Stanley took off the seal and took out the letter. His eyes scanned over the note, and he frowned. It was beautiful, yes, with the shining gold ink, written with an expensive pen, no doubt.

It was just that... it was written in cursive. Stanley couldn't read cursive.

'What does any of this say?' He thought. Remembering The Narrator was in front of him, he hid his frown and nodded as a thank you. He still had no clue what the letter read, but he didn't want to be rude.

The Narrator was confused at Stanley's response. "A _nod?_ That's all I'm getting after what you've read?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. Stanley stood there, completely drawing a blank on the situation. He nodded again. The Narrator was taken aback.

"Wha-? What the hell is that supposed to mean? How am I supposed to interpret that?" The Narrator exclaimed. Stanley only blinked. "Do you feel the same way or not? I really need to know.." he trailed off, bowing his head.

Now Stanley was really clueless on what was happening. Feeling bad that The Narrator wasn't getting a clear response, he motioned for him to stay, and when back into his office to fetch a pencil and paper. He quickly scrawled down a message and held up the paper to The Narrator.

'I don't know what it says.'

The Narrator processed the words presented before him for a moment, before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stanley, you illiterate idiot..." he muttered.

* * *

 **[Prompt:** **Imagine person A hands person B a letter confessing their feelings in beautiful, clean handwriting, written in gold ink with their best calligraphy pen... and person B never learned how to read cursive.]**

 **[I just NEEDED to use that line at the end. I NEEDED TO.]**

 **[Heheh.. this just gave me a new headcanon for Stanley.. that he can't read cursive. That's hilarious.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	10. Outdoors

**[Another crackfic, I believe. The Usual AU, in which they left the office.]**

* * *

Stanley and The Narrator both sat under a tree; The Narrator reading a book, and Stanley staring up at the sky. Stanley was so bored that he tried reading along to whatever The Narrator was reading, but somehow The Narrator had gotten a book that what printed in _cursive._ Stanley knew for sure that was on purpose.

There was absolutely nothing to do. Stanley leaned his head against The Narrator's shoulder and closed his eyes. Maybe he could just sleep this off...

'... What the..'

Something small hit against Stanley's face. He cracked an eye open.

 _Bzzzzzzz._

Stanley's eyes shot open and he jumped up. "BEE!" He shouted, flailing his arms around his facial area. The Narrator heard Stanley's outburst and quickly scooted away from him. The bee had left, but Stanley was still looking around. "Where did it come from?" He asked aloud to no one. He spotted a bee hive hanging from the tree above them.

"AHA!" Stanley exclaimed. He grabbed a nearby rock and prepared to throw it.

The Narrator saw this. "Stanley, don't-!"

Too late.

The rock hit the hive, causing it to fall from the tree and hit the ground, splattering honey all over the men below. Angry bees emerged from the hive, flying steadily towards them. The Narrator dropped his book and ran over to a frozen Stanley. "I think we'd better go.." he said, urging Stanley in the other direction.

The men sprinted away from the swarm of bees, screaming at the top of their lungs.

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine your OTP running away from a swarm of bees.]**

 **[This was, embarrassingly, REALLY short. I apologize.]**

 **[So, to make up for it, I'm posting two chapters. Again, sorry.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	11. Nighttime

**[The Usual AU.]**

* * *

It was nighttime... I think. It was impossible to tell in the office. The only real indication of the time was probably how tired Stanley felt. And it was even harder to tell because the game restarts constantly, and some clocks in the office run counter clockwise. Stanley just assumed it was nighttime, because he was exhausted. He groggily stepped out of his office. The Narrator said his usual dialogue.

 _"All of his co-workers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room. Perhaps he had simply missed a memo."_

Stanley tried his best to ignore The Narrator as he shuffled through the office. He really wished he could collapse on the floor right now, except he would wake up only feeling worse. He made it to the room with two doors and slumped on the doorway. The Narrator said his dialogue anyway.

 _"When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left."_ Stanley forced himself off the wall and stumbled towards the door on the right. _"This was not the correct way to the meeting room, and Stanley knew it perfectly well. Perhaps he wanted to stop by the employee lounge first, just to admire it."_

Yeah, just to admire it. That's exactly what he's doing, as he trudged through the hall, trying to keep his eyes open. Stanley entered the lounge and immediately went over to the couch and collapsed on it, sound asleep.

 _"Yeeesss, truly a room worth-"_ The Narrator stopped once he saw Stanley fall onto the couch. _"Oh. That's what you're doing..."_ he said, feeling a bit guilty for probably irritating Stanley. He toned down the brightness of the room and closed the doors. _"Goodnight, Stanley."_

Actually, it was 8:00 in the morning, but he wasn't going to tell him that.

The Narrator took once last look at the screen before attaching himself to a wire through his pod and hanging himself in the air to charge himself. If Stanley's resting, he might as well join him. Pressing a button, he closed his eyes as cyan glow faded from him, powering off. As he was slowly slipping from consciousness...

 _Click._

The Narrator powered back on at the sound, only to find himself falling to the ground below. He hadn't attached the wire well enough. He shut his eyes and braced for impact. _Crash, crash, crash._ He fell through three layers of ceilings before falling on something soft. Confused, he opened an eye.

He had landed on the lounge couch, right next to Stanley.

Stanley awoke and sat up, startled. When he saw it was only The Narrator, his eyes narrowed. The Narrator rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Oh, um... hello, Stanley." He said, looking everywhere but in front of him. "Just.. dropping by." He cringed inwardly. That was a terrible pun.

Stanley rolled his eyes. After shooting another glare at The Narrator, he laid back down to sleep. He wasn't exactly in the best of moods right now. And, of course, The Narrator continued to talk.

"Um.. Stanley?" The Narrator asked, tapping Stanley on the shoulder. "Would you mind if I stay here for a bit? I can't exactly go back without my wire..." he said, looking up at the hole above him. If he could, Stanley would have groaned. But he nodded anyway. The Narrator smiled a bit. "Thanks." He laid down on the other side. "Goodnight."

Actually, his internal clock said it was now 8:45 in the morning, but he wasn't going to tell him that.

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine person A falling through the ceiling and landing next to person B in their bed.]**

 **[Well, there are no beds in the office, so I went with the couch.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	12. Tales

**[SHIP WARNING, This Is My Story AU.]**

* * *

It was amazing, they had both escaped the office. They escaped the game. They did it!

After they left, they weren't exactly sure what to do afterwards. Escape was the only thing on their mind at the time, and they hadn't really thought that far ahead. In the end, they both decided to just stay in Stanley's old apartment for the night and figure out what to do in the morning.

Stanley's apartment looked exactly the same as it did the the Apartment Ending: small. Before the game, Stanley lived alone and almost never had company. This time, though, The Narrator was with him, and Stanley was grateful for that.

Stanley was sitting on his couch, blinking his eyes to stay awake. Sure, it was 11:13 P.M, but he was still wondering on what they would both do tomorrow. This was an apartment, so they would have to pay rent. They were both unemployed now, and Stanley wouldn't dare to try out for another office job. Never again. So, how would that be solved?

Stanley swayed to the side out of drowsiness. He quickly straightened himself up. The Narrator was sitting next to him, wide awake. He snickered at Stanley's attempt to stay conscious.

"Sleepy, are you?" He smirked. "Why aren't you asleep, Stanley?"

Stanley covered his eyes with his hand, trying to think clearly. "I'm just.. I'm worried about what we're going to do next." He said, rubbing his eyes. The Narrator was a bit worried about Stanley, so motioned for him to go on.

Stanley shut his eyes. "You know, it was so simple back in the game. The end was already written out, and everything was predictable. I spent so many years there that..." he sighed and bowed his head. "...I'm not sure how I can survive here. I've completely forgotten what its like here." He paused for a moment. "A small part of me is wishing that we stayed."

The Narrator was surprised. "I.. wha... really?" He stuttered. "You would actually go back to the office? You would rather have me tell your story over and over, having the game restart knowing that there is truly no end to it? That you can't actually die?"

"IT WASN'T ALL BAD, ALRIGHT?!" Stanley exclaimed, taking The Narrator by surprise once more. Seeing The Narrator's reaction, he quickly calmed himself.

"Over time.. I kinda grew a bit fond of my office. I grew sentimental about it." He started. "Also, it was sort of comforting to know that I would be completely safe inside the game. And.." he looked to The Narrator. "...There was also you."

The Narrator blushed lightly at the last sentense. He gave a warm smile and put his hand on Stanley's cheek. "That's sweet. Now, get some rest. We'll deal with whatever problems there are tomorrow. Together."

Joyful tears came to Stanley's eyes as he hugged The Narrator. After a while, the hug ended, and Stanley had his head in The Narrator's lap, tired as ever, but still unable to sleep. It was there that The Narrator decided to try singing a lullaby. The Narrator wasn't much good at singing, but he sang in a hushed tone, enchanting to Stanley.

 _Once upon a time, there was a man named Stanley._

 _He had lived alone; he didn't have a family._

 _This didn't stop him from living a simple life,_

 _Until one, unfortunate, and horrible night._

The Narrator paused, making sure Stanley was still listening. Seeing Stanley's eyes were staring up at him curiously, he continued.

 _Little did he know of another young man,_

 _Who died in an accident, due to a short attention span._

 _This man woke up only to be assigned to be.._

... _A storyteller; a writer. This person is me._

The Narrator paused again, for dramatic effect. He took another breath.

 _The man was forced to take an innocent life,_

 _One that was empty, free of any strife._

 _He happened to pick.. his choice happened to be.._

 _...A button pusher named Stanley. The four-two-seventh employee._

Stanley's eyes were wide. He didn't know about any of this! The Narrator went on anyway.

 _So one night, and while it did seem unlikely,_

 _Stanley simply vanished, leaving ever so quietly._

 _The narrator knew this wasn't right, but he was astonished.._

 _...Talking out of term would easily get you punished._

The Narrator bowed his head as painful memories came to mind, but he ignored them. This song was for Stanley.

 _So this narrator carried on, against his free will,_

 _Forging a story, that never ended, until..._

 _The main character decided he had a risk to take._

 _Along with the narrator, together they escaped._

The Narrator ran his hand through Stanley's hair, making Stanley's eyes start to close. But he forced them open. He wanted to hear the end! The Narrator, though, continued to pet Stanley as he sang, Stanley struggling to stay awake.

 _So although the old story has come to an end,_

 _From that horrible game, to which they were condemned,_

 _A new one has started, and while the first had ended badly,_

 _They were both free..._

The Narrator leaned down to kiss Stanley on the forehead. Stanley's eyes finally slipped closed, the smallest of smiles on his face.

 _...And Stanley was happy._

* * *

 **[Prompt:** **Imagine B falling asleep with their head on person A's lap, while person A sings a lullaby to them, carassing their head.]**

 **[I tried my best at poetry there, and I'm actually pretty proud of how it turned out! :D]**

 **[This is one of my favorite chapters here, along with Broken and Stuck. :P]**

 **[Fun fact: I actually wrote this at 11:13 P.M. Hah, sleep, what is it again?]**

 **[Please review!]**


	13. Mistletoe

**[SHIP WARNING, This Is My Story AU.]**

* * *

"Stanley, would you come over here for a moment?" The Narrator called. Stanley looked up from his laptop and went over to The Narrator's spot. "Can you please explain to me what that is on the ceiling, there?" He pointed to a small leafy plant thing; a mistletoe.

Stanley blushed. "Y-You don't know what that is? Really?" He asked. "You aren't kidding?"

The Narrator stared at him. "Well, I wouldn't just ask you to tell me what it is if I was joking." He said, rather bluntly. Stanley raised an eyebrow. Had The Narrator been away from the real world for _that_ long? He looked back up at the plant.

"Its called a mistletoe." He explained. "Its kind of a holiday thing. You see, if two people are standing under it, they have to kiss." Stanley paused, realising what he had just said. "B-But that's only during Christmas, of course! Its July now, so that's out of the question." He looked to the side. "I must have forgotten to take it down..." He shrugged.

The Narrator stayed silent for a minute, looking at the tiny plant. He grinned slightly. "Isn't there a Christmas in July, Stanley?" He said, pulling Stanley closer.

Stanley's face grew red. "Y-Yes, but that's only a joke-" He was cut off as The Narrator leaned forward and pressed his lips against his own. "Mmph!" He said through the kiss. The Narrator chuckled as he pulled back, stepping away from the spot. Stanley also backed away, avoiding another kiss attack. Trying to will his face to cool down, he sighed shakily. "I think I'll go take it down now."

The Narrator smirked a bit. "Oh no, keep it up. I want to see how many times I can catch you under it."

The thought of being "surprised" like that many time only made Stanley redder. He stepped out of the apartment room towards the broom closet to fetch a ladder. Yeah, he was definitely taking it down now.

* * *

 **[Prompt: Imagine your OTP meeting under a mistletoe in July.]  
**

 **[You know... this one is kinda old. It was just sittin' in my folder for a while now, and uh, it _was_ written in July...]**

 **[Ah well.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	14. Calm

**[SHIP WARNING, The Usual AU, in which they left the office. Oh and by the way, NO PROMPT HERE! :D]**

* * *

A snowstorm raged outside the apartment. There were warnings about it everywhere; on TV, on the internet, and on the news. No one really paid any attention to it. It was never as bad as the people made it sound. This time, however, they were wrong. It all happened so fast - the strong winds and the never-ending flurry of snow. After an hour when it had started, the streets were covered in three inches of hard snow. In fact, there was no one outside. The sidewalks were icy, along with the roads. No one bothered to even try to leave the comfort of their homes.

In the apartment, inside room four-hundred twenty-seven, laid a drowsy Stanley on a sofa, bored out of his mind. A yellow blanket was wrapped around him, keeping him warm since the heater had stopped working.

Actually, it was always broken. The greedy woman who owned the building didn't bother to fix it.

Stanley lazily looked around from his spot on the couch, a bit tired, as it was 10:24 P.M. His eyes landed on The Narrator, who was frantically typing on his console keyboard. He sighed heavily. "Narrator, what are you doing?" Stanley asked, not entirely caring on the situation, but he had nothing better to do than ask.

"Trying to manipulate the electricity currents in this room to keep running forever."The Narrator replied, not even glancing up from his device. He put a hand to his eyes, which screwed shut in frustration."Unfortunately, I know nothing about this whole 'wiring' thing."

Stanley tilted his head. "You actually think the power's going to go out?"

"Yes!"The Narrator exclaimed, making a wild gesture with his arms for effect."Have you seen how heavily its snowing outside? I'm surprised the roof hasn't collapsed in on itself!" His teal eyes darted back to his screen. "I mean, its not the building I'm worried about, its the console. I don't want it to turn off. What if something happens?"

Stanley rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Nothing's going to happen, Narrator." He said in a deadpan tone.

The Narrator's eyes scanned over the monitor. "How are you so sure about that? You can't be too sure, Stanley!" He argued. He continued to type, not even noticing that Stanley had stood up and went behind The Narrator to watch, taking the blanket with him.

"Look, just put the console down for a minute, and relax." Stanley said quietly, resting a hand on The Narrator's shoulder.

The Narrator paid no mind to it. "Relax? I'm perfectly calm!" He blurted. "What made you think I wAS STRESSED OUT?" His shoulders tensed as he grew louder. "DO I SOUND CALM TO YOU? I THINK I DO! I'VE NEVER BEEN SO CALM IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!"

Stanley didn't even flinch at The Narrator's yelling. Instead, he wrapped his arms around The Narrator's, draping the blanket around both of them, and interrupting The Narrator's constant typing. "Please, Narrator? Just stop for a minute."

The Narrator jumped at the unexpected hug. "Wha-? What are you-?" He stuttered. He wasn't able to move his arms. He tried to get out of it. "Get off of me!" He demanded, trying to free himself from Stanley's grasp.

Stanley only held him tighter. "Relax." Stanley muttered at the back of The Narrator's neck.

The Narrator blushed lightly, but continued to resist. "Stanley, you can't make-"

"Relax."

"I refuse to-"

"Relax."

"But what if-"

"Relax."

"Stanley, this is-"

"Re. Lax." Stanley said finally, increasing his hold on The Narrator and resting his head on his shoulder.

The Narrator continued to struggle for a while, before he huffed and shook his head, finally giving in. He looked downwards, a bit mad that Stanley did this. He didn't mind the hug, though. After a minute, he grabbed the yellow sheet and held it closer to him, trying to warm up. Stanley snickered quietly at this. The Narrator ignored him.

Suddenly, with a low hum, the lights went out, darkness filling the room. The Narrator sighed. "Oh great. The power's gone out. I knew it. What's going to keep us from freezing now, hm?" He turned his holo-visor on, the glowing cyan light illuminating a small area around them. He turned his head to look at Stanley. To The Narrator's question, Stanley just looked up from behind him with his neon yellow eyes, and then closed them, holding The Narrator even closer. He stayed silent.

The Narrator's blush darkened a shade, and he sighed again. Getting up from his chair, he dragged Stanley and himself over to the couch, where he sat down and shifted so that he could return the hug.

"...You're lucky I enjoy hugs.." he grumbled, resting his head against Stanley's, and snuggling closer.

* * *

 **[Heheh... I apologize for all of the cuddles these two are getting. I haven't had any physical contact for a while. I guess that's one way to relate to Stanley. :P]**

 **[Also, yeah, I'm starting to write stuff without prompts now. I suppose this is progress?]**

 **[Well, anyway, please review!]**


	15. YES!

**[SHIP WARNING, This Is My Story AU, and no prompt here~!]**

* * *

The Narrator was trembling. _Okay, please be perfect, please be perfect..._ He looked over the passage again. And again. And again. Taking a breath to compose himself, he folded the paper and placed it into his front pocket, along with a black box in his other one. He ran a hand through his hair. _Relax... relax..._

The Narrator did not take rejection well. Or failure. And he really hoped, right now, that it wouldn't come to either one of those. He stood up, and poked his head into the apartment room. He sighed. Well, here goes nothing.

"U-Um... Stanley..?" He called out, nervousness apparent in his tone. "Do you have a minute..?"

Stanley closed and turned off his laptop, then proceeding to look up at The Narrator. He put it to the side, and positioned himself so that he was facing him. Whatever had The Narrator this scared must be important. He gave his full attention to the man at the doorway, blinking innocently.

The Narrator screamed inwardly. Why did he have to be so damn nice?! Ugh, sometimes he wished Stanley would just ignore him. It would definitely give him more time to steel his nerves. Nevertheless, he got his attention, and there was no going back now. He stepped into the room and slowly walked towards Stanley. He pulled in a chair and sat on it, across from him.

"I- um.." He started, already embarrassed that he was stuttering. "Do you mind if I read you something? I-Its a poem..." He glanced down at the floor. He couldn't find himself to look up.

Stanley was confused. When was The Narrator ever worried about something he wrote? He's usually proud as hell of that! Not wanting to hurt The Narrator's ego, he nodded.

The Narrator sighed in relief, only briefly. "Oh, uh, thanks." He said, chuckling nervously. He got the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, and smoothed it out. "Its for you, by the way. I.. hope you enjoy it.." He trailed off, eyes scanning the paper. "Ahem." He took a breath.

 _Ever since we've left the game,_

 _I've never really felt the same._

 _I lie awake, late at night,_

 _remembering all of the fright._

Stanley leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. Oh, so this was about the game? He sighed. He didn't really like to be reminded of that dreadful parable, with the endless restarts. Thank goodness they had escaped. The Narrator cringed a little at Stanley reaction, stopping immediately. Stanley saw this and quickly got back to his original position. Yeesh, that must have looked rude. He motioned The Narrator to go on. The Narrator hesitated, but gazed back down at the paper.

 _You comfort me from time to time, and I do as well._

 _We helped each other back on our feet every time that we fell._

 _Soon we developed a fondness for each other,_

 _and then the feeling soon turned to lovers._

Stanley blushed at the last word. Yes, all of it had been true, but where was The Narrator going at? He wondered this as The Narrator went on.

 _Being with you for all of these years was more than I could ask,_

 _Whether it be in the game, or doing our simple tasks._

 _You're the only person to whom I confide,_

 _My thoughts and opinions; and with you at my side,_

 _Together we're something even greater, together we're something more,_

 _We're something so amazing, something better than before._

Stanley smiled, flattered so far by the poem. Still though, why would The Narrator write this for him? The Narrator glanced up, and seeing Stanley's expression, his confidence boosted, and he grinned. He folded the paper and inserted it back into his pocket. He knew the rest of this anyway. The Narrator stood up, and reached into the other pocket, pulling out the black box and hiding it behind his back. Just as Stanley thought the poem was over, The Narrator continued.

 _Remind me if I forget to say,_

 _And remind me of this every day,_

 _That I love you, Stanley. And as surprising as this may be,_

 _Please answer this question..._

The Narrator's timidness came back just as quickly as it left, and he tried his best to will it away. Not now, of all times, dammit! He got down on one knee and revealed the small box, opening it, and showed Stanley the green diamond ring inside. Stanley's eyes were wide, and his mouth was open in shock. His voice shaky, The Narrator asked...

 _...Will you marry me?_

* * *

 **[Yeeesss, The Narrator and poetry just works so well together, doesn't it?]**

 **[Yeah, sorry for the terrible poetry, but DAMN, that idea has been in my head for A WHILE.]**

 **[I'll have to rewrite this someday. Heh.]**

 **[Also, I had an idea of Stanley proposing. Please let me know if you would like me to do that! :3]**

 **[Please review!]**


	16. Secure

**[The Usual AU, and- HEY THIS WASN'T MADE WITH A PROMPT! :D]**

* * *

Leaving the meeting room for probably the hundredth time, Stanley walked past the broom closet. He stopped in his tracks and glanced over to it. An evil grin appeared on his face as he crept to the closet. He stepped into it and closed the door behind him, and proceeded to sit in the middle of the floor. The Narrator was quick to respond.

 _"Oh, no. Oh nonononononononono not again. I won't be a part of this. I'm not going to encourage this. I'm not going to say anything at all. I'm just going to be patient and wait for you to finish whatever it is you enjoy doing so much in this room. Please, take your time."_

Stanley was then left with beautiful silence. He closed his eyes and sighed. Perfect.

* * *

Minutes passed. Maybe a half hour. The Narrator soon grew impatient, and he huffed, folding his arms.

 _"You know, when I said to take your time, I didn't know you meant for_ _ **this**_ _long."_ He said, causing Stanley to crack open an eye and glare up. He continued anyway. Its not like he cared. _"Its ridiculous, really. I mean, what's so special about-..."_ He stopped. _"Well, actually, you know what, I suppose its not my place to judge."_ His tone was less irritated now. _"I know I said I wasn't going to say anything, and I'm pretty sure I've failed at exactly that. So, starting now, I will be quiet. Here's me, shutting up. Here I go. Zip. Zilch. Nada."_

More quiet. Stanley didn't trust The Narrator could keep it up. But after a few minutes had passed, he decided, hey, maybe The Narrator is actually fully capable of-

 _"Okay, this is harder than I thought."_ The Narrator said, interrupting Stanley's thoughts. Stanley shook his head and facepalmed. He should have again, its probably only in his nature; The Narrator is a narrator, after all. Just his luck, though, to be stuck forever with someone like that. Despite Stanley's disapproval, The Narrator continued to ramble on.

 _"I'm sure you won't mind anyway. You're probably too distracted with whatever you're doing in there to be listening to me."_

Stanley gave a blank look. He's not actually doing anything in here... maybe The Narrator can't see him in here. 'That may be another reason why The Narrator really wants me out of here.' Stanley thought.

The Narrator went on. _"That's the only explanation... unless you really did die in there..."_ He trailed off at the idea. There was a pause, as if The Narrator was actually scared for Stanley's life. Stanley scoffed. As if. _"...and if that had happened, well, at least give me some indication that you're alive. Maybe stick your head out of there for a second? Please?"_ The Narrator spoke in a worried tone, almost as quiet as how he was in the Zending. Stanley cringed as he felt a pang of guilt. Damn his niceness!

 _"Then again, you might still be ignoring me. There may be no way of..."_ Just as The Narrator sounded close to tears, Stanley poked his head out of the broom closet. _"..oh. So you_ _ **are**_ _alive."_ The Narrator breathed a sigh of relief. _"Thank goodness."_

The shuffle of the script being picked up is heard, and The Narrator turned to a particular page. _"Well, anyway, I believe this is taking too long. We need to go on with the story."_ He said, his usual tone back in place. Stanley didn't even have a chance to protest (or at least try to) before he was teleported out from the closet into the hallway. Stanley tried to go back inside, but The Narrator closed the door before he could even grasp the handle. Wooden boards were suddenly placed over the door. Stanley's glare turned sharper and he scowled at the ceiling. The Narrator wasn't phased.

 _"Oh, why are you looking at me like that?"_ The Narrator said innocently. _"Its just a broom closet."_

Stanley's hands curled into fists and he started to shake with anger. This was stupid! Maybe he should have done nothing. Maybe he should have played dead and let The Narrator cry about it. As long as he left him alone. Practically stomping up to the closet, he tried to pry the wooden boards off. No luck. If he could, he would have growled in frustration. He then tried pulling harder, even going as far as to stand himself on the wall for support. The Narrator only watched, an eyebrow arched.

 _"...You seem to be making a big deal out of it."_ He commented. _"Did it really mean that much to you?"_

Stanley made a big show of flailing his arms as a yes and nodding. He crossed his arms and faced away from where he was initially looking, as if he was turning his back on The Narrator. Then, from the corner of his eye, he glared up at the ceiling. Despite all of this, The Narrator's demeanor didn't change. Stanley was acting childish, and it really wasn't helping with the story. He sighed.

 _"Look, if it so special, how about you show me what's so great about that closet, hm?"_ The Narrator suggested. Stanley's expression softened a little, and he cocked his head, making it clear that he was listening. _"If I'm convinced that its really worth it, I'll leave it open, and you may enter it and ignore the story for as long as you want. But, of course, if I don't agree, I'm removing it entirely. Sound fair?"_

Stanley narrowed his eyes a fraction, thinking it over. Seeing that there was no way The Narrator wouldn't agree that the broom closet was special, he nodded.

 _"Yes? Alright, then. I'm coming down. Keep the closet warm for me. Just give me a few minutes."_ The sound of a roller chair being pushed back was heard, and footsteps were leading away from the microphone, along with a door being closed. The boards on the closet disappeared, and Stanley quickly scurried into it.

He sat in the middle of the room and he buried his face in his knees. 'Okay, so now The Narrator's coming. What now?' He wondered.

* * *

Ten minutes later, and Stanley could hear footsteps coming down the hallway. Shoot - he's already here! Stanley still didn't have a idea on what to do. All he had time to come up with was to just have The Narrator come in and look around. That had a low chance of working, however. He gulped, and glanced down at his pocket. Maybe plan B would work, if it ever came to that. Stanley could see that The Narrator had his arms crossed, and he looked like he knew Stanley wasn't going to pull it off. He strolled up to Stanley, looking quite confident.

"Okay, here I am. Now, show me what is so very fascinating about this... closet." He said, as looking bored and disinterested as ever. Stanley nodded and gestured towards the doorway. They both stepped inside, and Stanley sat down in the middle of the floor like he always does. Remembering The Narrator was with him this time, he scooted over, patting a spot next to him. The Narrator hesitated. The floor looked so filthy... He slowly sat down, wincing as he finally settled. Stanley just smiled and looked absentmindedly around. The Narrator just gave a nonchalant glance to the side.

"Hm. From the looks of it, its just a normal janitor closet." He observed. "Yeeesss, just a small room. A really small room. I'm starting to regret even making it." He squinted his eyes as he began to talk to himself. "In fact, why did I even make it? Its completely unrelated to the story! How foolish of me."

Another moment of silence. Okay, that was enough. He stood up and up dusted himself off. "Well, I have to say, that was the worst tour of a closet that I've ever had. Its also my first. I'm happy to say that its my last." He said as emotionless as he could. "Say your farewells to your broom closet, Stanley. It-"

The Narrator didn't get to finish his sentence as Stanley hands him a slip of paper. No - handing it isn't the right expression. He practically shoved the slip into The Narrator's arms, making said narrator flinch and make a slight "oof!" sound. Shooting an irritated glare at Stanley, he snatched the paper and examined it. It had writing on it; no doubt Stanley's objection to what he was about to do. The Narrator looks at him, hesitant to read his opinion on his most beloved closet... but Stanley was staring at him strangely. It was eerie... and honestly creeping The Narrator out. A little worried on what he was given, he reluctantly read the note.

'You would never understand, but that's exactly why I love this closet. Its so simple. So plain. So... boring. The game has been nothing to me but endless restarts and complete chaos. I barely have a choice. Its either "Fake freedom, only to start from the beginning," or "You're upset that you can't leave? Well, too bad! Here, have some death, accompanied with the fact that you'll never go to heaven!"'

The Narrator frowned at the words presented before him. Before he could comment on it, Stanley snatches the paper from his hands and gives him a new one. He narrowed his eyes at Stanley, clearly not wanting to continue to read any more insults to his masterpiece. Stanley only gestured with his arms towards the paper. Wildly. Practically throwing his arms at it. The Narrator sighed in frustration and glared down at the paper.

'But here in this closet, its exactly the opposite, just like you said! There's no story here. No choices to make, and no paths to follow. Sure, its hardly interesting, but the only thing that feels different and separate from the game. The employee lounge has to do with a part of the story. This closet does not. Please, please let me keep it.'

The Narrator glanced up from the paper to see Stanley with wide, pleading puppy eyes in a begging pose. He quirked a brow. After staring at Stanley's pathetic display for about a minute, he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, then proceeding to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine, keep it. I'm still not convinced, but since you insist, you may take a... break here." He said, as if the very word was hard to say. "-Only for a few minutes." He added quickly. Seeing Stanley brighten up immediately at the news, The Narrator tosses the paper behind him as he takes his leave, back to the recording room. "I still expect you to continue with the story, of course."

Even though The Narrator couldn't see him at the moment, Stanley nodded and happily waved goodbye. Once The Narrator was out of sight, he grabbed the handle of the door and closed his beloved closet, with him inside.

* * *

 **[You know, I'm surprised I haven't done much with the broom closet. Strange, right?]**

 **[And well, I didn't expect this to be almost two-thousand words, really. A broom closet... its amazing what you can do with it! :P]**

 **[Please review!]**


	17. Alike

**[Could be shipping, you decide. The Usual AU (Which has been recently changed, go check up on it!).]**

* * *

Hmm? Stanley? Are you... are you still in your office?

Stanley, I can't see you inside there. Could you please come out?

...

Hmph.

Stanley decided to just disobey The Narrator as usual and stay in his office. And although this was where his story started, it was almost never spoken of ever again in the story. There was that, and also there was nothing to do in there. There were no orders on the screen for him to follow, as I had stated, and the only thing he could possibly be doing in there is sweet FA.

Hell, even the broom closet's better than this. Unlike the office, it appears halfway through the story. Don't you enjoy that closet, Stanley? Why don't you just wander over to it, so we can get at least some of the story over, hmm?

...

It was baffling that he was still sitting in his office. There was literally nothing to do in there.

...

Stanley.

...

Stanley, I can't advance the story from here. Unless you're planning on closing the door.

...

Stanley? Hello? Is everything okay?

Stanley, please. I... I need you to start the story. I need you to just step out of the office. Can you do that for me?

The story can't exist without you, Stanley. You're the main character. I can't just narrate a story that's missing the most important part! That's... that's you. Nothing can happen from here on out if you don't move. Nothing at all. And I just can't take that. There's progress to be made.

So... are you even listening to me? Can you hear me? Stanley, are you there?

...

...

Stanley...

Was it... something I said? Did I say anything to you in the last restart?

If I did... well, I can't remember. A-And I'm sorry. If its causing you to be this way, I am truly, deeply sorry. I didn't mean it.

So... if that was the case, do you forgive me?

...

... I suppose not...

...

Please, Stanley, I...

...

..I-I won't start the story. I promise. As long as you come out.

I just want to talk, Stanley. Please? Something is clearly wrong here. I'm not sure if its me or something else.

If its me, then I want to sort it out. With you.

You're the only one here to change me, Stanley. I'm giving you a choice here...

...

...It.. is me, isn't it..?

Please, if I had done anything before, if I had done anything to hurt you _this_ badly, you need to tell me!

Stanley, I want to make this right! I don't want to hurt you! Please!

Whatever I had done wasn't me! I'm different now! Whatever had happened to make me do such a thing is gone! I'm not the same person as before! I'm not a monster... I...

..I-I...

...

..J-Just...

..Just come out...

..P-Please, I'm so sorry...

I just want to be friends, Stanley... I want to help you...

I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I'm sorry if I'm only getting in the way.

Stanley... could you please come out..?

Please Stanley... I'm begging you. Please forgive me..

Stanley if you could just come out for a minute, I...

...

You know what, never mind. Stay where you are. Its fine.

*Running sounds fading farther and farther away from the microphone*

* * *

The Narrator cut a hole through the floor of his recording room. Stanley didn't know this, but the recording room was located right above the office, just in case something bad happens. This would qualify as such.

The panel of the ceiling fell from its placement and dropped to the office floor below. The Narrator jumped down into the game and dashed through the hallways, down to Stanley's office. Hopefully he remembered the map correctly. Let's see, left, right, left...

He stopped at a doorway. There it is: room 427. He cautiously walked towards the open office room. He still couldn't see the employee. "Stanley...?" He called out quietly.

No response. He got to the doorway and peeked in.

Stanley was under his desk in the corner of the room, his face buried in his knees. His shoulders were shaking, probably from crying. The Narrator knelt down to Stanley's level. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Stanley?" The Narrator said, barely above a whisper.

Stanley glanced up, only barely, at The Narrator. The usual rebellious, neon glow in his eyes had faded into a dull yellow. His eyes were puffy as well. He had flinched at the contact, and more tears spilled from his eyes as he gazed up. Why was _he_ here? He could hardly stand to look at him; the very person who caused him to break.

He just couldn't take it anymore. It was fun at first, to go against the story and annoy The Narrator. Heck, he even enjoyed some of the endings. But after a bit of searching, the realization that he was stuck here forever had finally sunk in. And he just snapped. He didn't want to be here. Not with him of all people. _Not him._

Stanley scooted farther away from The Narrator, pressing back into the corner. The Narrator withdrew his hand and frowned. This clearly wasn't working. He moved closer to the man and sat beside him, resting his hand on the employee's back and gently caressing it. Stanley was shocked at the sympathetic gesture, and was going to try and stop it... but he.. let it stay. For now...

Despite it coming from the one he hated, it was the only comforting thing he had received here after so long. He hugged his knees tighter to his chest and cried harder, the curse The Narrator had put on him muting his sobs. Why did The Narrator have to make him mute?! It was so irritating to not be able to argue with the voice that constantly insults you everyday.

The Narrator's heart dropped at what he heard. He could hear each and every thought going through Stanley's head. _Stanley really thinks I made him mute..._ The Narrator thought sadly. He put an arm around Stanley and held him.

"Stanley." He whispered in the employee's ear. "I didn't do this."

Stanley looked up from his sobbing to glare at The Narrator. He was so close to just punching that storyteller in the face. What the hell does that mean? It was pretty clear that there's no one else here to do anything like this!

The Narrator bowed his head. "Stanley... I'm not in control of the game." He confessed, and Stanley's eyes widened. "I never made you mute. I never put you here. I'm forced to do this. I'm forced to do all of this. I'm..."

The Narrator surprised Stanley by suddenly gripping him in a hug. "I'm scared, Stanley! I don't know what's going on, I don't know why you're here or why I'm here! I was placed in my recording room one day, and I can't leave! I'm as stuck as you are, Stanley!" He hid half his face in Stanley's shoulder. "I was left notes by someone that if I try to escape, they're going to kill me! I don't want to die, Stanley!" He blurted.

Stanley was still recovering from the shock of the hug, but he couldn't help but feel bad for The Narrator. His glare softened and he hesitantly placed his arms around the terrified man. The Narrator blinked up at him, tears in his eyes. Stanley gave a warm smile and hugged him back. A few more tears escaped The Narrator as he held on tighter, trembling slightly.

If he was able, Stanley would have laughed at the irony of the situation. Here was The Narrator, coming down to comfort him, now seeking comfort in Stanley's embrace. He wasn't complaining though. Maybe he didn't have to hate him. In fact, they seem to be the only ones in this entire game. They only have each other.

Stanley sighed quietly, resting his head on The Narrator's shoulder.

They needed this. They both did.

* * *

 **[Ah yes, its about time I updated this!]  
**

 **[Sorry for all of the unexpected hiatuses. But let me tell you, This Is My Story - Chapter Four is, so far, the longest chapter. So please be patient!]**

 **[And, wow! Hey, I come back to The Stanley Parable Fanfiction Archive, and there's a few more stories! How wonderful! You know, when I first posted "Please Press Restart," there were like, 44 stories here! Ha, its amazing how writers can discover this game and decide to write something of it! Keep going, everyone!]**

 **[Please review!]**


	18. Darkness

**[The Usual AU. Mentioning of past fanfics.]**

* * *

Stanley spawned in his office again. The door was closed.

He sighed. Here we go again.

Stanley knew that every time he spawned in his office and the door was closed, it meant that The Narrator was planning something. And that was never good. The worst thing was that he didn't have a choice. He didn't have a say in it. He had tried before to just restart the game himself, but the door had remained closed each time. All he could do now was brace himself. And so he did.

Stanley sat down on the chair near him and stretched himself out. Just take your time, just take your time... stall the inevitable, that's all you can do...

He got up and took a deep breath. Here we go.

Stanley turned the door knob, and to his surprise, it was unlocked. That was strange. Usually when this sort of thing happened, the door was locked. Either that, or The Narrator would prevent him from leaving somehow. He took a quick glance at the ceiling. No comments or protests from The Narrator so far. He couldn't tell if that was good or bad.

He cracked the door open, just wide enough for him to poke his head out. Peeking out from his spot he was shocked to find the lights off. All of them. There wasn't even any light coming from the windows. It was just a constant pitch black. Slowly, he opened the door wider and cautiously took a step out. Then he took another step. And another. Finally he was out of his office.

The employee let the light from his own office shine into the room, brightening only a few feet in front of him. Oh well, its better than nothing. Besides, it was almost comforting. Like a night light. Maybe this whole thing won't be so bad.

 _"Oh, silly me."_ A familiar voice said, making Stanley flinch. _"I missed a light."_

Stanley's heart dropped and he turned around to return to his office. Unfortunately for him, the door closed before he could stop it. As it shut with a click, Stanley was left in complete darkness. The employee ran to where he thought the corner was and leaned against it, trying to remain calm. Its not that he was afraid of the dark, but the fact that The Narrator needed darkness for his little scheme of his seemed more than terrifying at the moment.

A scoff echoed in the room. _"Stanley, stand up and compose yourself. This is ridiculous; I only turned off the lights!"_

Stanley didn't move. He stayed where he was, curled up. Maybe if he stays here, The Narrator would get bored and leave him alone..?

There where a few moments of silence before The Narrator sighed, obviously irritated. _"Alright, come on, this isn't the reason why I shut off the lights."_ His voice dropped to a whispery voice. _"I want to play a game, Stanley. One that I made. Its specifically made for you. It'll be fun. I'm sure of it."_ He said the last part in a low tone that unnerved Stanley.

Stanley willed himself to look up. He took another breath. Maybe he should have stayed longer in his office. He got up and walked forward into the void. His only hope was that he doesn't trip over anything or bump into a wall. He didn't want The Narrator doubling over in laughter just because Stanley walked into a desk. That did not sound fun.

It was only after a minute of walking before Stanley noticed he hadn't needed to make a turn yet. He hadn't strolled right into a wall or bumped his head on a doorway yet. Curiously, he took a few steps to the left. There was no wall. He went to the right. There was no wall on this side either. It felt as though he wasn't in the office at all (which was completely possible, considering what The Narrator could do). There was a bit of relief in that. At least he didn't have to worry about hurting himself.

Still though, he was so used to closed spaces that all of the free room sent chills down his spine.

 _"Now, if you're wondering,"_ The Narrator began, _"that little game I'm talking about? Its another story! Aren't you excited, Stanley? You get to witness another work of my infinite genius. No one else gets this chance, you know. Just you. Aren't you lucky."_

Stanley rolled his eyes. Yeah, no kidding. Of course no one else gets this chance. Honestly he considered everyone else to be lucky for that. Pages shuffling and a quiet sigh is heard. The Narrator cleared his throat and took a breath.

 _"As Stanley walked deeper into the seemingly endless void, he began to think. Why am I here? How did I get here? Is everyone back at the office still okay? Would I even be able to get back? How would I get back?"_

Curiously, Stanley took a glance behind him. Of course, this was useless to him, as everything was still pitch black. Still, as The Narrator said, he did wonder a bit on how he would get back to his office.

The Narrator went on. _"And then... he noticed.. there might not even be a way out! After all, the only room he had seen so far was his office, and he had already forgotten which direction that was in. So, regretting he had even left his office, he continued onwards."_

Yes, Stanley did regret leaving his office. Oh, how he wished he had savored it longer before being forced into this.

 _"..."_

Stanley had walked for a whole three minutes expecting more dialogue, but there was none. It seemed that The Narrator had chosen to finally fall silent. It was for effect, he was sure. As he predicted, The Narrator spoke up.

 _"Stanley felt a shiver go through him, and just as he registered the feeling, he also felt a presence behind him."_

As The Narrator had written, Stanley did indeed feel more aware of his surroundings. The shiver that The Narrator had mentioned did appear, and he was starting to get worried.

 _"He froze. He held his breath. Was someone following him? He couldn't tell."_

Stanley did freeze and hold his breath. If he could, he would have screamed or something. There was the possibility of a murderer or something behind him, and The Narrator's making him stand still?! Did he _want_ him to die?!

...Well, he probably did, but that didn't lessen his fear.

He felt a breath on his neck.

 _"Stanley began to run."_

Stanley bolted as quick as he could from whoever was following him. 'OHGODOHGODOHGOD I'M SO DEAD I'M DEAD.' He screamed in his mind. His heart was pounding, and he was barely aware of what was going on. All he knew was that he had to RUN.

 _"As he ran blindly through the darkness, he heard footsteps right behind him. No matter how far or how fast he ran, the distance between him and this unknown stalker never lessened. He tried running in a zig-zag pattern, then he started running left. Then right. Then he began running in whichever direction he could except for backward, but no luck."_

Just as The Narrator had said, Stanley obeyed his instructions, too frantic to even question or rebel against them. There was a spark of anger inside him when none of these ridiculous maneuvers didn't help him in the slightest. It all made him look pretty stupid as well.

 _"Soon, his breathing became labored, and it was starting to get harder to run. Tears ran down his face; oh, he was so dead! Try as he might, there was no escaping his inevitable doom treading closely behind him."_

Terrified sweat ran down his face when he felt himself getting tired. Narrator, this wasn't the best time to make me look weak! He scowled and quickly wiped at the uncontrollable tears that streamed from his eyes. This was stupid. He was scared, he had to admit, and was at the verge of tears himself, but he certainly didn't need The Narrator to make him cry.

 _"Just as he thought of this, the echoing steps started circling him, and Stanley only became confused and all the more panicked."_

Once he had said that, the said footsteps clicked around him. Stanley's fear grew a little, but he was mostly confused. How the hell is that even possible? Unless... unless there were multiple people! The idea of this made Stanley try to go against the game and run faster, but he couldn't. The Narrator's story didn't allow him to.

 _"Heaving an exhausted sigh, he finally resigned to his fate, and slowed down. He hunched over, hands at his temples, and his eyes screwed shut. His panting resonated through the void."_

Stanley wanted to scream. NONONONO DON'T MAKE ME SLOW DOWN I DON'T WANNA DIE! Still acting as The Narrator's puppet, he stopped in his tracks and did what he was told. Was he really making that much noise just by breathing? Because all he could hear at the moment was his heartbeat hammering in his head.

 _"Who was coming to get him, he wondered in suspense. Shia LeBeouf? The Fangirls? Oh god, he hoped to any higher deity that it wasn't The Fangirls. That cannibal has got to be better than those.. those_ _ **demons.**_ _"_

The employee was terrified enough at the mention of that cannibal. But The Fangirls?! Oh god, he could just imagine their shadow-covered faces, and when they were grinning to themselves when they had kidnapped him. The very thought of the incident made Stanley visibly shiver in fear.

He shut his eyes. Please no, please no, nononono...

I don't want to die. Not like this.

Not in this story. Not by them.

I don't want it to end like this...

...

...

 _"It was only after his breathing rate calmed, when Stanley realized that the footsteps had stopped. Not only that, but he couldn't sense anyone around him."_

He cracked open an eye and looked around him, finally able to move freely. It was true; everything was silent, and it seemed that there was no possible threat around him! His once-crying face bore a wide grin at this, and he wanted to jump in delight... except The Narrator had disabled his ability to jump. That didn't matter though, because this story was over! Everything would be back to normal soon!

 _"Happy to have somehow outrun the killer and live to tell the tale, Stanley breathed a calm, soothing sigh of relief."_

Stanley smiled up at the ceiling, more than happy to grant this one request. After all, he was alive, wasn't he? Not wanting to disappoint, he took a deep breath in, and slowwwly let it out...

"Boo."

Stanley paled and stumbled away from his spot, clumsily sprinting away. That voice was right behind him! SHIT I DIDN'T LOSE HIM THEY'RE STILL HERE I'M SO DEAD SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!

The Narrator chuckled softly to himself, trying his best not to be any louder, as it would give the trick away. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand, and his eyes squeezed shut from laughter. He had seen it all; Stanley's shocked face, his relief quickly turning to horror, and his pathetic attempt to get away. The night-vision feature on his holo-visor made that all possible, of course. Thank goodness he found out that he could disable the light. He wouldn't be able to do this if he hadn't.

It was getting increasingly harder to sustain his laughter as Stanley went farther into the distance. _Oh, Stanley was just scared out of his mind! That was simply priceless!_ He thought smugly to himself.

* * *

 **[Happy Halloween, everyone. :)]**

 **[Please review!]**


	19. Overwhelming

**[Creation AU. No prompt.]**

* * *

Blackness... and a rising chill of uncertainty.

Was it over?

...He couldn't tell.

Looking all around him, all he could see was just that; blackness. He walked forward, his footsteps echoing on the metal catwalk below him. Stumbling in the dark, he bumped into a wall. After feeling it cautiously with his hands first, he knocked on it. The sound was loud, and bounced around what felt like a large room. The employee's expression of fear soon turned to one of confusion. From what he could tell, this was the Freedom Ending. The only difference being that the door wasn't opening.

But what was more eerie was that there was no narration.

The realization of this made Stanley pale. He slowly looked to the ceiling and backed away from the door. What was going on? Why had The Narrator chosen to be quiet in his most favorite of all endings?

His train of thought was halted when a hand grabbed his. Stanley silently screamed and tried to pull back, terrified at the thought of someone else other than him inside the building.

"Stanley!" A voice whispered harshly. Stanley recognized it immediately. "Its me! The Narrator!"

Stanley was relieved to hear a familiar person, and he dropped his guard. He cocked his head, as if asking why The Narrator had decided to come down here. That, and an explanation to what's going on.

"Stanley.." He began, still speaking quietly, "..after thinking it over, I've decided to give you your freedom. You've earned it." He announced proudly, ruffling Stanley's hair with a smile. As if responding to these words, the huge door opened, revealing a starry night sky. Cool night air streamed into the chamber, the moon outside shining its light dimly, almost seeming to ask Stanley to come outside.

Stanley didn't, however. He had froze. The sheer thought of freedom after so long was almost unthinkable to the employee, and he simply couldn't grasp the concept. He stared blankly at the exit.

The Narrator took notice of this and led the employee outside. "Come on now. Let's sit down. I think you may need a bit of time to process all this." He half-muttered the last part. The storyteller led them both to a grassy hill, where he sat down and looked up at the stars. Stanley decided after a while of staring to glance up at them too. No one spoke for a very long time. Though, of course, The Narrator was the one to break the silence.

"So, how does it feel? To finally leave the game?" He asked curiously, smiling at the employee. "Aren't you excited..?" He said, hoping to get a response from him.

Stanley still didn't say anything, and continued to look up, his expression almost emotionless. The Narrator blinked and stared at him. He tried to communicate again.

"Hey, you know what else is great?" He started. "Now that you're out of the game, you can finally talk! Isn't that amazing?"

For once, Stanley allowed his face to move, and his eyes widened. His pupils stared down at the ground. He can speak now? After years of being mute... after years of being unable to protest or laugh or cry... he now had his voice back? Was that really true? What did it sound like? How did it sound like? Did it match him?

All these questions ran through Stanley's head, and The Narrator was looking at Stanley worriedly. Maybe this was all too sudden for the employee; too shocking for someone so used to a repeated pattern for too long. The Narrator only had himself to blame for that, and the thought only made him feel worse. He tilted his head slightly. "Stanley..?" He asked quietly. The expression on the employee was unreadable.

Stanley's gaze rose just a bit. After taking a few shaky breaths, he finally summoned the courage to open his mouth.

"I-I..."

Stanley flinched at his own voice and he covered his mouth. Was that him? Was that really him? That's what he sounds like?

His eyes dropped back down to the ground as tears welled in his eyes.

He could talk... he was free from the game... everything was back to normal...

Droplets fell gradually from the employee's eyes, which escalated soon to sobbing. His hands covered his face, trying to silence his crying. The Narrator saw this and scooted over to him to try and comfort the poor man.

'I can actually hear myself... I can actually hear myself..!' Was all that went through Stanley's mind as his sobs shook him. He tried his best not to make a sound. Even as hard as he was crying, he was smiling through it all.

Peeking through his hands to look up at The Narrator, he tried to calm himself down. The damn Narrator was watching him for goodness sake! He slowly lowered his hands from his face and wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. The Narrator sat back, only watching the employee recover from the shock. He looked to the side awkwardly. He didn't want to push Stanley any farther than he already did. It was bad enough that he had made him cry. Stanley's breathing slowed to an even pace, and after getting rid of some leftover tears, he smiled up at The Narrator, and The Narrator smiled back.

"Feeling better?" He asked carefully. Stanley nodded.

The Narrator then decided that was enough of sitting in the grass for now. He stood up, then reached out a hand to help Stanley up as well. Stanley shakily got up, and they both dusted themselves off.

"Well." The Narrator says before sighing. "I guess this is goodbye." He looked down and shook his head. "Hm. I never actually thought I would do this. You know, considering all I've done." He looks back up at Stanley with a grin. "You're free to come back any time, of course. I'll try not to trap you here." He says with a wink. Stanley giggled a bit, then immediately frowned at how weird his voice sounded. He'll have to get used to that, unfortunately. The Narrator chuckles at Stanley's reaction.

Just before The Narrator could turn to leave, the employee catches him in a hug.

"Thank you." Stanley whispered. Then he took off, happily running down the stone road, no restarts to prevent him from leaving anymore.

The Narrator glanced behind him for a moment, watching Stanley run into the distance. After a while, he smirked and returned back into the office, the huge metal door closing behind him with a loud clang.

* * *

 **[Okay, I'll admit it, these fanfics are getting worse and worse. I'm sorry.]**

 **[*Siiigh* Its just... so damn hard to write something for this so that I don't look dead, while trying to get This Is My Story onto Chapter Four, alright?]**

 **[But, yeah, I'm sorry about that.]**

 **[Please review!]**


	20. Minefield

**[SHIP WARNING, This Is My Story AU, and no prompt used.]**

* * *

Stanley walked into the apartment building, covered practically from head to toe in powdery snow. It was honestly hard to keep from shivering under all of it. Thankfully, the heat from the building warmed him up, and the snow had already begun to thaw a few steps into the lobby. He took off his beanie and dusted it off, doing the same to his scarf afterwards. The snow on his jacket had melted by the time he had finished, so he left that alone.

He went up to the elevator and pressed the button to go up. The screen at the top of the door counted down from eight to one before it pinged and the doors opened. Stanley stepped into the empty elevator and selected the fourth floor. Once he had arrived at the specific floor, he strolled up to room 427, reached into his pocket for his keys, brought them out, unlocked the door, and stepped inside the room.

He called out, "Narrator, I'm ba-"

He was immediately interrupted by a kiss from said person.

Stanley stumbled back in surprise, blushing. He stared, shocked, at his smirking Narrator. "What the heck was that for?!" He demanded, trying to hide his embarrassed face.

"What was what for?" The other asked innocently, leaning on the doorway.

"The _kiss!_ Was there any reason for that?"

The Narrator shrugged casually. "Can't I surprise you with one every once in a while? Is that really so bad? I certainly hope not." The Narrator folded his arms and gestured to the apartment room with one arm. "Come on inside."

Stanley sighed and walked back into the room.

-and was surprised with another kiss.

His blush darkened, and before he could retreat again, The Narrator pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him. He held him close. Stanley glared up at the storyteller, trying to regain his breath.

After a few exaggerated pants, he finally asked, " _Why?!_ "

The Narrator chuckled, and his eyes flicked up over to the doorway. "Look above the door." He said, grinning. Stanley did so, and his eyes widened.

A mistletoe was hung over the door. How could he have missed that?!

His mildly irritated glare returned and he got out of The Narrator's embrace. "Okay, real funny, haha." He took a step away from him. "Now, it would be nice if you could warn me next ti-"

The Narrator rushed forward and planted another kiss on Stanley's lips. Stanley squeaked in surprise and tried to get out of it, but The Narrator held him still.

The Narrator pulled back from the kiss. "Don't. Move." He said in a low, warning tone. Stanley immediately stopped struggling and blinked up at him in confusion. A mischievous smile spread on the storyteller's face and he glanced up. Still confused, Stanley looked up as well. His eyes widened even further and his mouth was open in shock at what he saw. 'Oh, bloody hell...'

There were mistletoes all over the ceiling.

While Stanley was distracted, The Narrator pulled them over to the side, and as Stanley continued to look up, he noticed that the storyteller had gotten them over to a section where no mistletoes hung over. In fact, there seemed to be a line where there were none, starting from the door and ending in the bedroom. He wasn't very observant today, was he?

"Now, if you don't want another... _attack,_ you'd best stay close to me. There's no mistletoes in the bedroom, so I suppose we should make our way over now, hm?" He asked smoothly, quirking a brow at him.

Stanley pouted. Oh boy.

* * *

 **[I'm sorry that this is short and I'm sorry that I haven't been updating very often. I'll try to make it up to you all somehow.]**

 **[Please review! (And Happy Holidays!)]**


	21. Cycle

**[No prompt.]**

 **[Before I start, I would like to thank everyone who has stuck with me for this long. It means a lot to me that people are willing to read what I write. I can't thank you all enough.]**

 **[I look forward to starting the new year on this site, and I hope you all enjoy what I have in store for all of you.]**

 **[Thank you all once again, and please remember to review.]**

 **[I wish you all a wonderful new year.]**

 **[~Invader Fangirl]**

* * *

 **The Usual AU**

As Stanley respawned yet again in his office, he took a glance at his computer. After a moment of hesitation, he turned it on and sat down in his chair. As he waited for it to load, his gaze wandered up to the ceiling. Hopefully The Narrator won't mind if he takes a small break. The screen flashed on, displaying his username, and The Narrator was quick to comment.

 _"Oh, Stanley, did you see it as well?"_ He asked, and Stanley looked to the ceiling and quirked a brow. 'See what?' He thought. _"The date, of course!"_ He responded, as if stating the obvious. It clearly wasn't obvious to Stanley, and he continued to look clueless.

The Narrator paused for a second, then sighed. _"Its the thirty-first of December!"_ He continued. _"I hope you know what that means...!"_ He said, excitement literally dripping from his tone. Stanley... only blinked. What exactly does that day have to do with anything?

A slap could be heard, probably from a facepalm. _"Oh for heaven's sake - its almost New Years! Aren't you excited?"_

At that, Stanley's eyes lit up and he did indeed get excited. A whole new year was coming? That was so cool! He looked to the computer and there it was; the date, December 31. It was ten o'clock at night at the moment.

The Narrator sighed fondly and Stanley directed his attention upwards. _"Just imagine - its been two years since we've been here in this Parable. We've done quite a lot here, haven't we? I'd say we've done our fair share of achievements in the Office, wouldn't you agree? Well, besides the obvious one."_ He said with a short laugh.

With a smile, Stanley nodded. Yes, they have done a lot in this year. Stanley couldn't feel any happier as he reflected over his memories of this year: being forced into that other story with the cannibal, the many times that he had proved The Narrator wrong about things, messing with The Narrator and just causing trouble, rebelling against the Story, a few secrets shared here and there, conversations of what they would do in the outside world, dealing with The Narrator's occasional screwups, his triumphant defense over the broom closet, when they... realized just how similar they were to each other... and when the same asshole of a Narrator went and scared him in the dark like that! Oh, he was _**never**_ going to forget that...

Even as he frowned a little at the last memory, he couldn't help but chuckle a little and shake his head in nostalgia at the rest. They've come very far since the beginning, and Stanley felt proud for both him and The Narrator.

...

 **Creation AU**

Stanley and The Narrator sat on one of the sofas in the Lounge, holding each other contentedly. It was quiet, save for the soft heartbeat that both could hear from each other. Smiling down at Stanley, The Narrator leaned his head down to kiss Stanley on the forehead. Stanley blushed and nuzzled into The Narrator's chest in embarrassment, making The Narrator snicker just a bit.

After a moment, The Narrator broke the silence. "Stanley?" He asked to get the other's attention. As expected, Stanley tilted his head up to look at him, pink still tinting his cheeks and smiling happily. The Narrator took a second to admire the employee's expression before continuing. "Do you know what day it is?"

Stanley's smile faded and he tilted his head. No, he did not know what today was. Why did it matter?

The Narrator quickly checked his internal clock just in case before answering, "Its the last day of December; New Year's Eve." He responded, and Stanley grinned. They've been together for an entire year?! That's amazing!

The storyteller watched as Stanley grew excited and smiled. "Yes, we're going to experience a new year of this; the Parable, the Office, and..." he pulled the brunette a little closer, "...just us." He whispered in a low tone with a joking smile, and Stanley giggled and held him tighter. Oh, he couldn't wait!

The Narrator chuckled and ruffled the employee's hair, causing the other to stick his tongue out playfully like a dog at the sensation of being petted. "I think this year we're going to have quite a bit of fun, considering what we've done to get to our current positions, don't you think?"

Stanley grinned up at him as a response, and The Narrator took this opportunity to lean down and lock his lips with the other's. The employee flinched in surprise, but reacted quickly and fiercely kissed back.

Yes... ever since The Narrator revealed himself for the first time, and then had their little moment in the Lounge, Stanley just couldn't imagine life without his lover. They've done a lot together. He could still remember their first kiss, and the time when he was kidnapped and brought to The Narrator (thankfully he was released afterwards!). There was also the time when he himself had apparently gone dead for a while, leaving his Narrator in utter despair. They've also discussed possiblities of what would happen if they ever got out of the Office.

There were many stories of what they've done, really... but those can be told at another time.

What mattered now... was the future. For both of them. Together.

...

 **This Is My Story AU**

"Narrator!" Stanley called. "Narrator, get over here! It's gonna start soon!" He shouted, eagerly watching the television screen.

The Narrator mumbled under his breath as he went over to the couch, plopping down next to Stanley. He groaned in irritation when he saw the clock. "Stanley, its two hours before the new year begins. I was just fine reading my book over _there_ where I didn't have to watch all of these stupid performances." He sighed, starting to get up again. "I'm getting my book-"

Stanley grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, causing the storyteller to make a startled yelp. "You can read it later! Next year! Just-WATCH!" He said, pointing to the screen and continuing to stare intently at it.

The Narrator folded his arms. "Stanley, this is ridiculous. Now, it may just be on account that I haven't been in the real world for a while, but I still don't see what's so special about watching an enormous ball drop down a pole on a building in the middle of a city." He said dully. "Frankly, I think its a strange tradition. I also can't believe how people are willing to stand in the numbing cold just for this, and also for the sake of watching people perform - and even then, have you SEEN their costumes?! How are they still singing clearly in those clo-"

He was cut off as Stanley put a hand over his mouth. "Shh." He said, not taking his eyes off of the TV. "Watch. The. Screen." He instructed, almost like a robot.

The storyteller pulled the hand away from him and sighed in frustration. "There's something with you and screens, I swear..."

* * *

 **It was 11:59 P.M.**

* * *

Stanley and The Narrator watched the countdown online. Stanley had pulled up a webpage on his computer, and The Narrator had came down to watch along with him in person. The employee had brought in a chair from a desk outside and they were sitting next to each other in front of the monitor.

...

The Narrator had brought his console with him as he had came down, and here they were, watching the countdown in the real world on the holographic screen.

...

Stanley shrieked with joy when the clock turned, startling The Narrator. The employee latched onto the other out of excitement, and The Narrator struggled to stay upright.

* * *

 **5...**

* * *

The two leaned closer towards the screen, holding their breaths in suspense.

...

Stanley looked up at The Narrator with a loving expression.

...

"FIVE!" Stanley shouted along with the crowd on the screen, right near The Narrator's ear. The Narrator jumped at the volume and covered the nearly-deaf ear with his hand in annoyance.

* * *

 **4...**

* * *

Stanley put his hands over his mouth, while The Narrator watched in awestruck silence.

...

The Narrator noticed the employee turn and looked back down at him with a warm smile.

...

"FOUR!" He yelled, this time facing a little less towards the storyteller. He did, however, increase his grip on him. The Narrator choked out, "Air-! S-Stop-!"

* * *

 **3...**

* * *

Stanley could barely keep still in his chair. His feet were jumping, causing the chair to bang against the hard floor. The Narrator ignored it as he also muttered, "Three..."

...

They slowly leaned in...

...

"THREEEEE!" The employee screamed, letting go of The Narrator and running over to the screen to sit near it. The Narrator took a moment to regain his breath as the other ran towards the screen... and he couldn't help but chuckle a little at his enthusiasm.

* * *

 **2...**

* * *

"Two..." They whispered in unison, both grinning happily to themselves.

...

...and shared a deep kiss, closing their eyes.

...

"TWO!" Stanley said, as expected. What was not expected, however, was that The Narrator had joined in, saying the number significantly quieter than the employee. Surprised, Stanley turned his head to look at the other, finding a smile on the storyteller's lips. He smiled back, gesturing to sit next to him.

The Narrator hesitated, but in the end, he gladly came over, making himself as comfortable as he could next to his close friend. They faced the screen.

* * *

 **1.**

 **And thus started a new chapter... for everyone.**

 **A new chapter...and a new story.**

 **The cycle has restarted.**

 **Let's begin again.**


End file.
